


Luck and Good Timing

by Nemain



Series: Luck and Good Timing [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, My First AO3 Post, Smart Is The New Sexy, Strangers to Lovers, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemain/pseuds/Nemain
Summary: Break-ups are rough, but sometimes they are what lead us to where we are meant to be.Yusuf and Nicky are both recently out of relationships, and are escaping to the local coffee shop.  It starts with awkward eye-contact, but ends with something so much better.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Luck and Good Timing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916047
Comments: 107
Kudos: 380





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this before I lose my nerve - not my first fic but the first I've posted publicly...

People always talk about breakups in terms of dividing the accumulated stuff, the accumulated friends, maybe moving out if you’re really unlucky. They usually don’t talk about dividing the places, having to sit down and say , “You get the sushi place, I’ll keep the grocery store since I usually had to do the shopping anyway, you jerk…” Which is how Yusuf found himself at an entirely unfamiliar Starbucks just to get away from Andy’s where he was crashing on the couch. Since he also worked from home, that meant he had spent the last two weeks in one spot, anchoring there like some sort of mushroom, and Andy had shoved him out the door, telling him he needed a change of scenery and also that she “needed some goddamn privacy.” He suspected she was just sick of him moping.

He was trying not to pout: he’d really liked the old coffee shop. It was comfortably shabby with a random assortment of thrift store furniture, an eclectic mix of music, and coffee that didn’t taste like burned garbage. But, Kyle wanted it, and Yusuf would have happily cut off his own arm and handed it over to not see Kyle again. (His left arm, anyway. He needed his right arm to draw so he could work so he could make money so he could get off Andy’s goddamn couch and into an apartment and ... oh god. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate.) The dividing of friends had actually been pretty easy; their social circles had never really meshed which should have been a big warning sign right there, really. So, here he was. Starbucks. 

Yusuf looked around, desperate for a seat, but the place was packed. He knew the two comfy chairs would be taken, in this case by a guy talking loudly on his phone about ... stocks? Cars? Event planning? It was exhausting whatever it was. And the other, apparently by a book with a torso and legs, sitting in a posture of rigid defiance. Yusuf suspected that there was some matter of principle going on, that The Book was refusing to yield space to the Loud-Talker; no one should be able to hide that effectively behind a paperback, especially while looking so dignified. All the other tables had the standard mix of people in groups, people on laptops, and awkward strangers who were forced together by circumstance, with not a single chair left unoccupied. He sighed and headed out to the patio, thankful he and Kyle had broken up in April, rather than December. 

Yusuf settled himself at a table and pulled out his tablet. Coffee shop sketches had always relaxed him, and was good practice for playing with technique and style to incorporate into his comics. It was how he’d met Kyle, actually, a spontaneous caricature that sparked a conversation that spiralled into two years of, what was in hindsight, pretentious conversations and mediocre sex. Yusuf cringed, but forced himself to relax, and just start sketching. 

After an hour or so, he’d worked his way though the baristas and several of the patrons and was amusing himself thinking up new slogans for Starbucks (“We burn the coffee so you don’t have to!” “Our music is so bad it offends everybody equally!” “You aren’t fooling anyone; we know you have nowhere better to go.”). He scanned the cafe, hoping some new unsuspecting art models had come in, and found his eyes drawn to The-Book-With-Legs. Who also had lovely broad shoulders, under a soft-looking grey sweater, and seemed like exactly the sort of person Yusuf would want to curl up with on a rainy day. From the neck down, anyway. Maybe he has terrible taste in literature, Yusuf thought. The last thing he needed right now was a hopeless rebound crush on an anonymous torso. He was far enough that he had to crane and squint a bit to see the title, which was even more obscured by the ratty state of the cover. This book was clearly well-loved. The image on the cover was really interesting, and he just made out the word “Pavane” when he made eye-contact with a pair of light eyes peeking out above the cover. One of the attached eyebrows twitched up, seemingly in amusement. 

Shit! 

Yusuf jumped and quickly stared back at his tablet. Smooth, and definitely not the behaviour of some creep... He gripped his stylus with resolve, ears burning, and checked the time. Great, another hour to kill before he could go back to Andy’s and crash on her couch of shame. He managed to only glance back up in the general direction of the comfy chairs (definitely not at their occupant or his broad shoulders!) a few times, but mostly focused on his sketching. Weirdly, all he managed to draw was a series of beautiful eyes, sometimes from behind various book covers, sometimes alone, gazing into his lonely soul, until the baristas shooed him off the patio at closing time. When he had the courage to properly look back, The Book was gone. 

*** 

Nicky gritted his teeth behind his book. He would not cede ground to the ambulatory-popped-collar carrying on in the seat across from him. He would not! He didn’t care that he was not getting any actual reading done; he was here first, and he’d be damned if he was willing to move for this asshole trying to impress the Monday night Starbucks crowd. 

Nicky sighed and slid further down in the big comfy chair. Sitting in a Starbucks as an Italian was humiliating. A sacrilege, even. He was sure that his Grandmother back in Genoa had a chill going down her spine at this very moment, almost as disappointed in him as she had been when he’d told her he wouldn’t be settling down with a nice Italian girl and siring a brood of nice Italian babies, and that he didn’t want to be a priest. Still, he had needed to get out of Nile’s apartment before he went mad. He was eternally grateful to her for letting him stay with her while he waited for his joint lease with David to expire. David had a kid, and was going to school, and just because they were not working out romantically didn’t mean Nicky wanted to be a dick and stick him with a lease he couldn’t afford. Plus, the apartment was right around the corner from David’s daughter's daycare and on a direct bus route to the university, whereas Nicky had a car. So, after Nicky ended things, he kept paying his half of the rent while he camped out in his best friend’s living room. And to give everyone some space, went to the local Starbucks and drank their crappy coffee (their tea was even worse, he was shocked to discover) and read a book. 

He was lonely. Nile was good company, and he was lucky to have such a generous friend, but it wasn’t the same. Still, he knew the breakup was the right thing to do. David was sweet and kind, but they had absolutely nothing in common; Nicky wanted to end it while they were still on friendly terms. 

He’d worked his way through a good chunk of his to-read list over the past couple months but had round himself in need of something familiar and treasured, which is why he’d fished his battered copy of one of his favorite books out of a storage box. Weird alternate -history-about-how-the-Catholic-church-would-have-ruined-everything-but-also-there’s-fairies wasn’t exactly comfort reading but it was nice to have something he could lose himself in. Or it would have been if the loud talker hadn’t decided to work his way through his entire contact list, expounding on the “exciting networking opportunity of a toga-themed party boat.” Nicky squared his shoulders, firm in his resolve. 

He focused on the first page of his book again; by the time he had gotten through the first chapter, he noticed that the noise next to him had died down. He peeked over his book at party-bro, who seemed to have exhausted his potential client list, and had deflated significantly, when something caught Nicky’s eye. Behind him, staring at Nicky from the patio was the most gorgeous guy Nicky had ever seen. Possibly. It was hard to tell, between the reflective glass of the window, the odd hunched way the guy was leaning in his chair and the strange, slightly cross-eyed expression on his face. Nicky chuckled when he realized the guy was trying to see the cover of his book, and used his distraction to admire the dark eyes, beard, and unruly mop of curls. Nicely tousled, Nicky thought. Suddenly, the guy glanced up and made eye contact. Nicky quirked an eyebrow up in inquiry, and the handsome guy paled, and quickly went back to doing something on a tablet. 

Damn. Nicky spent another half hour trying to catch his eyes again, with no success, so he decided to call it a night. He glanced back, wistfully at the beautiful man who seemed engrossed in whatever he was doing, and headed back to Nile’s.


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More pining! More awkward glances! 
> 
> Also, cw I guess, for a brief mention of Donald Trump and his politics. Spoiler alert: Yusuf is not a fan. It's in paragraph 2.
> 
> This is basically fully written, except for chapter 6 (the epilogue) so I should be able to edit and post new chapters daily. Thanks so much for being so welcoming to my first post!

Yusuf doctored his coffee and headed out to the patio. It was a bit chilly, but he found he liked the separation from the other patrons, and he’d gotten some good sketching in yesterday. He wanted to chase that muse again. Besides, it was one of those nights that held the promise of summer, so he didn’t want to waste it, knowing that he would be facing a solid month of rain before the real summer began. Logging into the wifi, he first checked his Instagram. He’d posted some of his sketches from the previous night, and while he’d gotten a lot of likes, most of the comments were pestering him about when he would post his next political piece. He half-heartedly responded to them

Yusuf sighed. A few years back, he had gone viral for a cartoon criticizing Trump’s Muslim travel ban. If he was honest with himself, which he always tried to be, it wasn’t his best work; a little too on the nose, and driven more by rage than any particular creative genius, but he’d needed an outlet. His parents had been planning to visit from Morocco, but they had canceled, too nervous that their flight would be routed through the US, even with Morocco not being one of the listed countries. So, homesickness and a righteous fury had led to him to posting a cartoon of Trump as a racist pumpkin also somehow crossed with the Wizard of Oz, which was met with a wave of reposts and new followers. Now any time he posted something that wasn’t political, people would ask when his next big takedown would be. Of course, shortly after that first piece he had met Kyle, and then his inspiration nearly evaporated in the banality of their relationship. Yusuf still posted political pieces, as they were a great outlet for his despair over the dumpster fire the world could be, but that wasn’t where he wanted to devote his time. He didn’t want to just be “that angry Muslim guy who talks shit about politics.” Of course, what he wanted to do was so different from anything he’d posted, he had almost convinced himself he was a total fraud and no one would be interested anyway. Still, the sketches and cartoons were a nice distraction from his day job. 

Yusuf was just idly doodling, glancing up to see if anyone particularly interesting had come in when he noticed the guy taking a seat in one of the comfy chairs. The guy had his hood pulled up like the Unabomber or some douchey tech bro, but immediately pulled it off over his head leaving his sandy brown hair sticking up wildly in all directions. He had a very striking nose and a serious mouth that Yusuf found endearing. And then he pulled out a book. 

Oh no. 

Yusuf felt an irrational wave of panic. The Book WAS super cute, and WAS exactly was the type of guy he wanted to curl up with on a rainy day. And do other things with… No. Yusuf shook his head, he was not interested in some quick rebound. That’s all this was, just loneliness piling up. His eyes came back into focus just in time to lock with the other man’s light eyes; Cute Book Guy quirked a charming little half smile before looking away. 

He’s just being polite, Yusuf thought. Like when you accidentally make eye contact with a stranger in the street and don’t want to come across like a jerk for scowling at them. To distract himself, he idly googled the book the cute guy was reading, surprised to find it exactly to his taste. He added it to his reading list, and opened Procreate on his tablet. A tingling feeling on his forehead made him glance up, this time catching Cute Book Guy looking at him and then darting his eyes away with a mildly panicked expression. Interesting… 

For the next couple hours, Yusuf finished some good sketches and even worked up the nerve to daydream up some ideas for the magnum opus he was still a bit too scared to think about much; he also traded glances with Cute Book Guy, the two of them taking turns catching the other staring. Every time he thought about going in and talking to him, though, the spectre of Kyle would appear, like the Ghost of Boyfriends Past, shaking his chains at Yusuf and reminding him about the dangers of dating coffee shop guys. If he happened, as he was walking away at closing time, to notice the exact colour, make, and model of car that Cute Book Guy was getting into, well, that was just him being observant of his surroundings. 

*** 

Nicky hovered at the condiments stand trying to add enough to his coffee to make it drinkable; Nile had suggested steamed milk when he had complained to her about the quality, but he had huffily responded that he was Italian and also not six years old, thank you very much, and now he was just drinking the coffee out of spite. He scowled at his cup; maybe next time he would try hot chocolate. Like a real adult. His time at the condiments table also allowed him to hover near the comfy chairs; the current occupants seemed to be wrapping up an unsuccessful date, based on the look of panic in the young woman’s eyes when her companion suggested they “do this again real soon,” and Nicky wanted to be ready to grab a seat when they came available. He would much rather have gone out and sat with Gorgeous Patio Guy, who was in the same spot as last night, but he’d made his lack of interest pretty clear. 

After settling and pulling out his book, he glanced back towards the patio. Nicky could take a hint, but he was not made of stone; art is meant to be appreciated, after all, and this guy was a masterpiece. Only to find himself being stared at. Nicky smiled at him and hot patio guy quickly looked away. Blushing? The dusk outside and the glare from the window made it hard to tell, but maybe there was more connection there than he’d originally thought. Something to think about anyway. 

The cafe was much quieter tonight, and Nicky should have had little trouble getting swept up in his book. Instead, every couple of pages, he would find his eyes drawn outside beyond the window and onto the patio, where Gorgeous Patio Guy appeared to be using a stylus to draw something on his tablet. Nicky admired his hands, appreciating the light reflecting off a silver ring. As if sensing he was being watched, he looked up, and it was Nicky’s turn to flush and look away. Nile was going to tease him mercilessly, he thought. Here he was, a grown adult with a career and a life (not an apartment, but let’s not think about that right now) and he couldn’t even make proper eye contact with this man. This beautiful man with the deep soulful eyes… Dammit. 

Under normal circumstances, if Nicky had his own space, he would never have spent so much time in a coffee shop, let alone a Starbucks. He would instead be wallowing at home, yelling at his xbox with dignity. Truthfully, though, he was rather glad that he didn’t have space to set up his gaming systems at Nile’s. It is what got him through his lonely high school years, before he’d moved here for university and managed to build his little community, and it would be too easy for him to retreat into that online world completely. It’s also where he had his when he realized that things with David would not work out; Nicky hated conflict and dreaded hurting David’s feelings, so he buried it as long as he could, until he couldn’t wait any longer. So, gaming helped, but could also be a trap. He already spent his work days immersed, and he needed to make sure he came up for air sometimes. Speaking of coming up for air… He looked back up, determined to not be a total disaster this time, and smiled at the eyes he somehow knew would be watching him. 

Nicky spent the rest of the evening alternating between reading his book, gazing longingly out the window, his treacherous mind coming up with reasons why he shouldn’t just go out there and say hi, until it was time to leave. He walked to his car with the telltale tingling between his shoulder blades, and he wasn't sure if it was willpower or fear that kept him from looking back.


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A partial change in venue and some Very Helpful Friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter is really dialogue heavy, which is not my usual style at all. Sorry if it's clunky, but I wanted to give it a shot.

Instead of his nightly walk of shame to and from Starbucks, Yusuf decided to accompany Andy and their friend Booker to their favorite neighbourhood pub. It was a nice change from his routine (“rut,” Andy had helpfully said when she’d proposed the meet-up). He definitely wasn’t going here instead of Starbucks out of cowardice... Plus, he liked the coziness of this place and they had a good non-alcoholic menu, so he wasn’t stuck being the awkward one drinking water while everyone else drank themselves sick. It wasn’t until they were seated, with Booker and Andy staring at him across the table that he realized it was a set-up.

“What?” He tried not to shift guiltily in his seat. Not that he knew what he was supposed to be guilty for. 

Booker sighed wearily in the most French way possible. (“How does he even SIGH with an accent?” Yusuf had asked once, in exasperation.) “Joe. Mon ami. It has been two weeks since you finally, officially ended it with-” 

“He who shall not be named,” Andy supplied helpfully. 

“Indeed. And months before that where you wanted to. So. Have you found a rebound to console you?” 

Yusuf glowered at both of them. He should have known there was no way to casually mention a cute guy at the coffee shop without Andy scenting blood like a piranha. And as for keeping secrets… Andy would take anything truly important to the grave without telling anyone; embarrassing details, on the other hand, were saved up and then tossed like grenades into conversations, timed for maximum splash damage. He both loved and hated this about her. 

“No, I haven’t found a rebound.” They continued to look at him expectantly. “He’s not a rebound!” That was definitely more than he’d meant to say. And also, wasn’t he? Why was Yusuf feeling protective of a relationship that didn’t technically exist? 

Andy placed her elbows on the table and fixed Yusuf with a stern look. It was the same look that made her such a terrifyingly effective personal trainer. It didn’t matter what she asked of you, when she looked at you like that, you did what you were told. “Spill.” 

Yusuf sighed. “There’s just… this guy. At Starbucks.” 

Andy glared Booker into silence, and made encouraging noises. 

“It’s nothing. He’s cute is all. He just goes there and reads his book, and he seems really sweet.” 

Booker narrowed his eyes. “If it is nothing, why do you blush?” 

“Because this whole conversation is ridiculous. He’s just a guy I met. That’s all.” 

“Tell us more about Mr. Sweet-And-Not-A-Rebound,” Andy urged. 

To Yusuf’s surprise, he was ready to talk. He described their first encounter in excruciating detail, realizing that the more he talked, the more besotted he sounded. “He has the most beautiful eyes. And he wears this hoodie, and it messes up his hair…” 

Yusuf was met with blank stares. “I don’t know, you had to be there,” he exclaimed, waving his hands. “It’s cute!” 

“Okay… do we know anything else about him?” Booker’s lips were twitching with amusement, and Yusuf was glad they were having this conversation early in the night, before his friends had much to drink. Booker could get mean after a few, but he was trying to cut back after his divorce, for the sake of his kids. Yusuf didn't want to imagine how Booker would have responded otherwise. 

“He drives an electric car! And he doesn’t use a to-go cup, he uses their gross mugs. He actually cares about things that matter.” Yusuf trailed off. This conversation was revealing as much about his feelings and desires to himself as it was to his friends. This was bad. And silly. 

“So you have met a guy who wears hoodies and cares about the environment. Welcome to every guy in this city. Including Booker!” Booker batted his eyelashes. “Greenpeace and Lululemon were founded here! Recycling is practically an Olympic sport.” 

“He is a cute guy… do not forget that. It is very important,” Booker added. 

Yusuf sighed dreamily. “He has the most beautiful nose. It’s so… noble. His profile belongs on a Roman coin, or a marble bust, enshrined in a museum for all to see.” Booker made gagging noises, and Yusuf hid his face behind his hands. “I’m doomed.” 

Andy took a deep breath. “Joe. Yusuf. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are twenty-nine, yes? You are not, in fact, in middle school? And if I looked through your recent sketches, I wouldn’t find anything resembling his name with hearts around it?” 

After a moment of silence, Yusuf muttered, “I don’t know his name.” It came out muffled, since Yusuf had not bothered to lift his face from his hands. 

“Was that Latin?” 

Yusuf picked his head up slightly and glared at his friends. “I don’t know his name. We’ve never spoken. Just… made eye contact at the coffee shop. Through the window. Several times. Sometimes we smile. And he’s beautiful. And I don’t know what to do.” He dropped his head back down into his palms. “I’m doomed,” he repeated. 

Booker had given up and was laughing uncontrollably, at this point. “You are in middle school! Would you like me to pass him a note? ‘Do you like me, check yes or no?’” 

“Give me strength,” Andy muttered, elbowing Booker. “Okay, so that’s the first step. The next time you see him, go talk to him. Ask him out. What’s the worst that could happen?” She was talking to him in the same patient tone she had used back when she’d first adopted him as a baby gay new to the city. 

“He could be another Kyle? ” Yusuf was suddenly animated. “Cute and vapid? Soul-crushingly dull? A pretty face who will suck out my -” 

“Ew.” 

“-artistic inspiration,” Yusuf finished loudly, trying to ignore Booker. 

Andy patted him on the arm. “Hey, Cute Book Guy reads, so we already know he’s miles ahead of Kyle, intellectually.” 

Yusuf laughed, conceding the point. It wasn’t much to go on, but Cute Book Guy did seem to have good taste there, at least. “Can we please talk about something else? Anything? Booker’s entire life is a train wreck, there has to be something there worth discussing!” 

Booker looked indignant, but Andy’s expression softened. “Just… I won’t ask you to promise or anything. But I think you should talk to him. You’ll never know if you don’t try.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Yusuf was relieved when they moved on to other, less emotionally tricky topics. 

*** 

Nicky tried not to be disappointed that the Gorgeous Patio Guy wasn’t there when he arrived. And anyway, he was being ridiculous. A few chance smiles and eye-contacts should not have been enough for the soft smiles he’d found himself slipping into all day. Besides, he actually had serious business to attend to. He opened his laptop and fired up Craigslist. 

He hated apartment hunting. Somehow, every decent apartment only had showings at 2:30 on Thursdays, simultaneously, when every person who had a hope of qualifying for a lease was working, to earn the money to pay the rent. It seemed counterintuitive, but what did Nicky know? He was just some sap who needed a place to live before his best friend in the whole world stabbed him in his sleep. In reality, it was probably a bit early to start looking, since he still had two more months on David’s lease, but he was desperate. Trying to find an apartment in this city was basically a bloodsport, and people literally showed up to apartment viewings with envelopes stuffed with cash that they would helpfully attach to their rental applications. He figured he would need all the head start he could get to find something. 

Nicky scrolled through the various ads, trying not to faint at some of the rental fees. Doing this alone was really going to change things. It would be nice to split the rent. Prices in the city were ridiculous, and he really didn’t want to have to move out to the suburbs and commute for hours every day, while living in a shoebox in the middle of nowhere. He’d rather live in a shoebox closer to the action. Not that he wanted to participate in said action, it was just nice to be around a broader mix of people, and in or near a vibrant gay community. He didn’t want to visit the clubs, usually, but walking down the street and seeing little old men holding hands, and little old women cuddling on park benches just refilled his soul. That was half the reason he’d abandoned his hometown and moved halfway across the world for university, deciding to stay in his new adopted city. 

Nicky fired off emails to a few prospective landlords, hoping he hadn’t made any obvious grammatical errors. In a market as competitive as this, any mistake could be fatal. He was just finishing up his last one when he heard someone clearing their throat loudly to his left. He snapped his head up, and tried not to show his disappointment at seeing Nile. (Why was he disappointed, he wondered. They had met while volunteering shortly after Nicky moved here, and had been inseparable ever since. She was his closest friend and he would literally die for her. Who else was he hoping to see?) 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, a little too brightly, as if overcompensating. “I thought you were on call tonight?” Nile was a paramedic and completely devoted to her work. 

Nile tossed her braids over her shoulders and grinned. “No, night off. I figured I’d help you with your ‘most of the baristas in here are tragically in love with you and can’t tell that you’re gay’ situation.” 

He rolled his eyes at her fondly. “That is not my situation.” 

“It could be…” Nile looked around the cafe with feigned casualness before glancing out the patio, as if by chance. 

“He’s not here.” Nicky should have known that mentioning a cute guy would have piqued her curiosity. 

“Who’s not here?” She asked innocently, studiously avoiding looking at the patio now. 

“And if he was, you would make that situation worse. What if he thought we were dating?” Nicky was suddenly terrified that Gorgeous Patio Guy would walk in and anything they might have would be doomed before it even began. Which was absurd, of course. They had made eye contact a handful of times, and smiled. That’s it. He had had more in depth conversations with every single barista in this Starbucks, on multiple occasions, than he had with Patio Guy, and yet his heart was rabbiting out of his chest at the thought of disappointing him. 

“What if he is competitive and thought I was interested? That he had to fight for your love? Maybe it would inspire him.” 

“Nile.” 

“Maybe he’d challenge me to a duel. Do you have a sword I can borrow?” 

“Nile!” 

“Fine. But you have to promise me you’ll talk to him next time. Otherwise, I’m coming back and sitting in your lap while you make sad eyes at each other through the window.” She would, too. Nile was fearless and not a little terrifying, especially for those she let into her circle of friends. 

“I love you.” Nicky smiled at her, feeling once again overwhelmed that she had adopted him as family. “I promise I’ll think about it.” 

“I know,” she said, but she grabbed his hand affectionately. “So, since he’s not here… tell me everything I’ve missed.” 

Nicky felt a slow smile grow over his face as he talked. He hadn’t been this happy in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more proper chapters after this, and then a little epilogue. It's all written, so I'll be able to do final editing passes and post them daily, I think. 
> 
> Thanks for taking time to read this silly little thing!


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans... One last roadblock in our love story.

Yusuf tried to give himself a pep talk as he walked down the block towards Starbucks. Silently, of course, no need to draw negative attention to himself. His life was messy enough without someone calling the cops on him. Today, he would talk to Cute Book Guy. He would walk up and be smooth and start a conversation. Easy as that. Yusuf knew that he was charming, that people just opened up to him, and he was rarely at a loss for words, which made his current predicament even more alien to him. He had never had a problem chatting guys up, even when he was new to town and unfamiliar with the social rules. He had chased his dreams, and his right to live authentically, halfway across the world by himself at eighteen; he could talk to a cute guy at a Starbucks, dammit.

His sense of purpose deflated somewhat when he saw that the comfy chairs were unoccupied, but he grabbed his drink and settled in his usual spot to wait. Or draw. Instead of his mindless doodles, he opened up his secret project for the first time in months and read through his notes. Apparently Andy and Booker’s inappropriate pep talk had made him braver in more ways than one. He was so engrossed in the notes he was making and the quick accompanying sketches that he didn't even realize over an hour had passed. He ran his hands over his face to try and clear his head, only to see the object of his affections sitting in his usual chair, scowling at a laptop, his shoulders slumped in defeat. As much as Yusuf wanted to go and comfort this poor sweet man (about whom he knew absolutely nothing) hitting on a guy who looked like he had just been punched in the stomach seemed ill advised. Cute Book Guy shook his head slightly, and then furrowed his brow, and started typing furiously. 

Yusuf returned to his notes, surprised at how inspired he was. Maybe he was finally breaking free of the Kyle Vortex. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cute Book Guy put away his laptop and glance over his way. His stomach churned, but he took a deep breath, grinned, and winked. 

Cute Book Guy froze for a second, then appeared to mutter something to himself and surged to his feet. Right as Booker walked around the corner and poured himself into the empty chair at Yusuf’s table. Yusuf stared in horror at the look of defeat on Cute Book Guy’s face as he slumped back into his chair. 

“What the hell, Booker!” 

Booker grabbed Yusuf’s half-drunk coffee, emptied his flask into it, and started drinking. “Where is your beloved? I came to see if he is worth all this trouble.” 

Yusuf sat in stunned silence. This was a drastic turn from yesterday. Booker had been making so much progress; was there a birthday or anniversary Yusuf was forgetting? He tried to figure out what could have caused this, and debated texting Andy for help. 

“Is that him?” Booker full on pointed through the window, so everyone could see who he was talking, or really shouting, about. “Yes, he does have a big nose. And that hair is tragic. I did not know you were into the mousy type. From the way you were talking, I was expecting an Adonis.” 

Yusuf found himself on his feet, filled with fury. He knew Booker was dealing with some personal shit, but how dare he come here and insult … a man Yusuf had not had the courage to even speak to. He couldn’t figure out where this sense of protectiveness had come from, and didn’t want to question whether he was even justified in feeling it. All he knew is that Booker needed to shut up yesterday. 

“I don’t know what you’re playing at Book, but if you’re going to be an asshole, you can leave.” 

Booker glared defiantly for a second before his face crumpled. “I am sorry. That was cruel and unfair.” He paused and took a shuddering breath. “We met with the judge today,” he said quietly. “The custody case… it is not going well. I do not know how much time I will be able to spend with my boys.” 

“Oh, Book.” Yusuf moved his chair closer to his friend and held him while he cried, feeling terrible for his cheap shot about Booker’s personal life the night before. He rubbed Booker’s back and murmured comforting words, until his friend was recovered enough to be escorted home. 

As Yusuf packed his things, he glanced back and saw the Cute Book Guy smile at him sadly. Yusuf shrugged an apology, and kind of waved with his hand, hoping the meaning was clear. “Maybe next time”. He then hauled up his friend and climbed with him into a cab. 

*** 

The comfy chairs were miraculously empty when Nicky came in. While he wanted to immediately go out and just talk to his gorgeous crush (Nile had laughed herself sick when he had used that word, telling him he needed to update his slang), the man was clearly engrossed in whatever he was doing. Plus, he really did need to check and see if any of the apartment inquiries had panned out. It had nothing whatsoever to do with Nicky being a coward. Nicky got himself settled and allowed himself the luxury of watching the man read and make notes; he was smiling to himself, and would occasionally make really animated expressions that made Nicky’s heart clench in all the right ways. He desperately wanted to find out what excited this man, what made his eyes light up like that. And he would - right after he checked his email. 

Nicky fired up his laptop and waded through what turned out to be a series of rejection emails. The apartments were filled or they had decided to up the price or they wanted older tenants… Shit. Nicky let himself wallow for a few minutes, before finding his resolve and typing up a round of new applications. He would NOT let this beat him. He would find a place to live like a goddamned adult! 

As he put away his computer, he rewarded himself with a glance out at the patio. Maybe… Gorgeous Patio Guy was looking his way. And instead of glancing down, he winked. Nicky felt the world crash to a halt; if this wasn’t a sign of interest, he didn’t know what was. He all but leapt to his feet, determined to go out there and tame this obsession before it got any more ridiculous. Of course the universe immediately decided that he wasn’t allowed to have nice things, because right at that moment, a scruffy blond pulled up a chair on the patio. 

Nicky sighed and sat back down, but didn’t bother trying to conceal the fact he was watching. Who was this? Clearly not a lover, and the body language wasn’t even that friendly. The newcomer said something that clearly mortified his companion, and then pointed directly at Nicky. Before he even had time to be curious, the Gorgeous Guy he had been pining over leapt to his feet and yelled, the sound muffled through the glass. Nicky was completely riveted. The two men outside glared at each other for a moment, before the blond man seemed to completely deflate; Gorgeous Guy looked as stunned as Nicky felt before he sat beside his friend and gathered him into his arms. 

This was too personal. Nicky felt terrible for watching, and tried to busy himself. He’d had his share of crises, and the last thing he wanted to do was intrude on someone else’s. When he finally looked back, the beautiful man he was determined to finally talk to was leaving. He gave Nicky a shrug of his shoulders and waved, which left him feeling a glimmer of hope. Whatever it meant, it didn’t feel entirely like an ending. Just another delay. Nicky packed his own things, and decided to head back to Nile’s to see if she’d be up for ice cream and movies, and probably, a good cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, and then the epilogue. You are all lovely people for sticking with this and I thank you! Should I post the last two at the same time, or do one a day again? I'm torn!


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally happening...
> 
> Small cw for mention of Morocco's laws about homosexuality and a character mentioning he was worried about coming out to his parents (but they were great).

Yusuf stood on the sidewalk across from the Starbucks for ten minutes before he went in, staring at the cute guy’s car in the parking lot. Like a completely normal and rational adult. Today was the day. It was going to happen. He was going to talk to this man, dammit, no matter how many of his friends paraded in with their lives in shambles. He strode in to the cafe, full of confidence and bravery, until he heard a beautiful Italian accent say, “Oh my god, he just walked in.”

Yusuf confidently and bravely marched into the bathroom where he had a complete meltdown. 

Outside, in the comfy chairs, Nicky panicked. “Nile what do I do oh my god…” 

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Talk to him? Like a normal human person?” 

Nicky’s laugh was slightly hysterical. 

“You can do this, Nicky. I believe in you.” And Nile hung up the phone. 

“You can do this, Yusuf. I believe in you.” Yusuf told himself in the bathroom mirror. “You are smart. You are funny. You are charming. You have talked to men in the past and you can certainly talk to this man.” It wasn’t at all embarrassing when he heard a toilet flush and a guy exited the stall, avoiding all eye contact with the obviously deranged person talking to himself in the mirror. Awesome. Yusuf washed his shaking hands and went out to confront destiny. 

As he grabbed his drink from the barista, Yusuf noticed that Nicky had put his bag on the second comfy chair, and was looking back at him with purpose. No time like the present… Yusuf walked over to introduce himself, after only spilling half of his coffee trying to get the lid on with shaking hands. 

“My-name-is-Yusuf-I-had-to-say-hi-before-I-chickened-out,” Yusuf rushed out, at the same time as Nicky jumped up and nearly shouted “NICOLO” at him. And then they both laughed. 

“Let’s try that again.” He smiled shyly. “My Name is Nicolò. But mostly people call me Nicky.” 

“Yusuf,” he said, putting his hand on his chest, as if they were speaking in different languages and he needed to clarify his meaning. “A lot of people call me Joe, especially from when I first moved here. But… I like Yusuf. Helps keep me connected to where I came from, you know?” 

Nicky held out his hand, and Yusuf took it to shake; they stood there, shaking hands for far longer than necessary, before grinning at each other awkwardly and taking their seats. Yusuf looked down at their still joined hands. 

“I meant to just shake your hand, but I think I forgot to let go.” 

“Would you like your hand back?” Nicky asked gently. 

“Not really.” The grin on Yusuf’s face was definitely trending towards goofy, but he couldn’t help it. “How about this?” He delicately shook free for a moment, savoring Nicky’s soft sound of disappointment, only to offer his left hand instead. 

Nicky gave him the shy little half smile that had first attracted Yusuf, and intertwined their fingers. “Perfect.” 

Just like that, all the awkwardness evaporated, like it had never been there in the first place. It was like what Yusuf imagined flying to be like; the first terrifying leap from a great height, with the ground rushing up to meet him, before spreading his wings and soaring. Disaster was averted, his heart was not splattered on the rocks below. Instead, he felt impossibly free, freer than maybe he ever had before in his life. 

“So, Yusuf,” and god if the Italian accent didn’t make his name sound better than it ever had, “Where did you come from.” 

Yusuf happily told him about growing up in Morocco, about visiting his uncle who was a guest lecturer at the university here and falling in love with the city. Walking through the heart of the gay community was the first time he’d really been able to put a reality to how he felt inside, and it was like his life had suddenly burst into full glorious colour. “It’s still illegal in Morocco; things are changing and there’s a push to repeal the laws, but… well, we aren’t there yet. My parents were thrilled when I was accepted to art school here, and then when I decided to stay and make a life.” He smiled fondly at the thought of his parents. “I just took my citizenship test, actually. And you? Italy, I’m assuming.” 

Nicky nodded. “Originally, yes. Genoa. I needed to leave all that Catholicism before I drowned. I was never very good at it, arguing with the nuns and priests, asking too many questions, and was tired of disappointing people. So I signed up for school here, waited to tell my parents I’m gay until I had an ocean between us, and the rest is history. My parents were actually super supportive; I think they were more disappointed about my last break up than I was, but this is home now. So, you’re an artist? Do you focus on digital art or traditional media, too?” 

“I don’t know that I’d say I'm an artist. I spend my days doing graphic design and making websites.” 

“That’s your job, sure, and it is art. But you … definitely an artist in other ways. I saw you drawing on your tablet.” 

Nicky was delighted to see Yusuf turn a bit bashful, admitting his aspirations to give up the day job and just follow his passion. “I have this idea, right? I want to write and illustrate a graphic novel of all the traditional folk tales my grandmother used to tell me, and all the ones she never had a chance to. Include some of the traditional Islamic artistic motifs, but fused with a modern aesthetic.” Yusuf trailed off. He couldn’t believe he was confessing his secret dream with this person he’d only just spoken with for the first time. This hope he’d locked away so tightly for fear it would shrivel in the light was instead blossoming as he shared it with this stranger who saw him more clearly than anyone he’d ever met. “I’ve never told anyone that.” 

“I am honoured that you would share that with me.” Nicky’s smile held everything that was good in the world. 

“What about you? What do you do? What do you love?” 

Nicky happily launched into an explanation of his job in game design (“I really enjoy figuring out the combat”) but his face truly lit from within when he spoke about his involvement with mentoring LGBTQ2S teens who were interested in entering careers in gaming. “I want to be the person I needed but never had, you know? Someone who can show them they are valued and there is a place for them.” 

They meandered from topic to topic, needing to know every detail about the other without delay, as if information was water and each was dying of thirst. Books (“The Culture series is amazing, but ‘Use of Weapons’ is the best one.” “Obviously; that ending blew my mind.”), music (“Beirut is coming to town soon.” “We should go see them. Him? I never know what pronoun to use.” “I'll grab tickets.”), favorite vacation destinations (“Malta!” Said simultaneously, by two laughing voices), they tripped over each other’s words, finishing each other’s thoughts with ease. No detail was too small or unimportant, and every moment was better than the one before. Hours later, and yet far too soon, the cafe music was turned off and they knew it was time to take their leave. Nicky and Yusuf wandered out of the cafe, still holding hands, and stopped, reluctant to let this magical night end. 

“Tomorrow. We should do something. Go somewhere that’s not Starbucks,” Yusuf suggested with a smile. “I’m busy in the morning, I volunteer with an organization that helps LGBTQ2S refugees and immigrants adjust to life here. But I’m free in the afternoon?” He tried not to sound too eager, but his heart was racing, and the voice in his head was chanting a litany of “please say yes please say yes.” 

Nicky laughed. “I’d invite you over but since I’m currently crashing on a friend’s couch… I don’t want our first date to be on my friend’s couch.” 

“I thought this was our first date.” 

Nicky’s answering goofy smile was mirrored by Yusuf’s. “Text me when you’re done. I’ll be ready whenever you are.” 

Yusuf’s heart was threatening to break free from his chest, when Nicky spoke again. “I… I’m just out of a relationship. Hence the couch. I need to take things slow. I don’t want to risk rushing into this and destroying something beautiful.” 

“Me too.” Yusuf laughed softly at how, once again, they were so well matched. 

“But I want to see where this goes. I really like you. A lot. I know this is only the first time we’ve actually talked, but…” Nicky trailed off, awed of the enormity of this thing in front of him. 

Yusuf tugged lightly on his hand, causing him to look up. “Me too. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. You look and you see me, as I really am. Or maybe who I'm trying to become.” He dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m coming on too strong, this is too soon.” 

Nicky gently squeezed his hand and then caressed with his thumb in gentle circles. Yusuf looked back up, and saw Nicky smiling gently at him. “No, you’re not. But let’s make sure we do this right.” 

Despite the week of missed opportunities and interruptions, despite them both being newly out of relationships and a bit fragile, in this moment, their timing was perfect. Perfectly in sync, they closed the space between them and pressed into a kiss, reveling in the spark they both felt, and the warmth of each other, and the feeling of coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yusuf's comment about not being an artist while working in web and graphic design was based on something a friend of mine said about herself; people literally buy posters of her work and she's too humble to admit she's awesome. So, graphic designers, you are artists!
> 
> Epilogue will be posted tomorrow - I need to do a final editing pass. Thanks for keeping with this, you are are wonderful people.


	6. Epilogue:  Saturday (Two Months Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking it slow is perhaps a relative term.

Andy hoisted a box out of the truck and staggered under its weight. “God, Joe, why did you have to shack up with someone who is into books? This box has the density of a dying star. Couldn’t you have picked someone who collects stamps or something?”

“You just need to be more strategic when you pick your boxes, Andy. See, I help and do not hurt myself” Booker proudly showed off the box he was carrying labelled “Pillows”. He looked better than he had in months, maybe even years; confronting his demons had led to AA, and he had just earned his red chip for thirty days of sobriety. 

“Thanks, Booker. You’re a true hero.” Yusuf patted him on the back as he went to retrieve his beloved art supplies from the truck, only to find Nicky gingerly carrying them like the most precious cargo. His heart lurched. How was it possible to love someone so completely? 

“Hey, loverboy! Stop ogling your boyfriend and help, or I’m leaving you to deal with the rest alone.” Nile shoved past, grinning at him as Yusuf realized he’d been caught staring. Again. 

Slowly they emptied the moving truck and manoeuvred all of the boxes up the elevator and into the apartment. Somehow, despite only knowing each other for a short time, everyone was perfectly choreographed, like an organized team, and their laughter and good-nature’s teasing helped the day pass quickly. 

“It is nice to see how well our friends get along,” Nicky said quietly to Yusuf, as they searched for the box marked “plates - Nicky”. “We are like a big family.” 

“How do you always know what I’m thinking?” Yusuf quickly kissed him before finishing his order for celebratory pizza and sodas. 

After the food was gone and the plates and garbage cleared away, everyone went their separate ways. Nile hopped into the driver's seat of the truck, after arranging for Andy to pick her up; they had plans to go for a run or something equally dreadful, as if hauling the contents of two people’s lives across town wasn’t already enough of a workout. Booker said his goodbyes and headed out for dinner with his kids; his commitment to therapy and treatment had helped his custody case, and he was taking every chance he could get with his boys. Yusuf and Nicky waved goodbye and headed back inside, to find one of their friends had left a bag of Starbucks coffee on the counter, topped with a big red bow. 

“Jerks,” Yusuf said, fondly. 

Even though the boxes had not been unpacked and the entire apartment looked like some sort of obstacle course, and despite the difference in time zones, they took turns video calling their parents. As Nicky walked around with his phone, Yusuf managed to somehow be in every space or section before him, miming what each would be used for with a cheeky grin. By the time Nicky showed them the bathroom, with Yusuf popping out from behind the shower curtain, his parents were helpless with laughter. When it was time for Yusuf’s parents to see the place, Nicky was shyer, but still waved to them so enthusiastically his hair flopped into his face, causing him to break into giggles. 

“I can see why you love him,” Yusuf’s mother murmured. 

“He can speak French mom, he knows what you just said.” 

“I can see why my Yusuf loves you!” His mom shouted again towards Nicky, whose ears had gone pink in embarrassment. 

After hanging up, Yusuf came out to the living room to find Nicky standing in front of the window, taking in their new neighbourhood. He walked up behind him, siding his arms around the other man’s waist and nuzzling at his neck. 

Nicky smiled, and leaned back into him, saying, “I love you, too. You know that right?” 

“I know. But I will never complain about hearing you say it.” Yusuf held him tighter. “I still can’t believe we are here. So much for taking it slow.” 

Nicky huffed in amusement, but then his face grew contemplative. “I know I said that, but this just feels right. I think we were meant to find each other. Like destiny.” 

And, well. Yusuf wasn’t about to argue with that. He closed his eyes and savoured their closeness, ready to start their new life together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy endings for everyone! *throws confetti*
> 
> Thanks for being so awesome about this little thing. I wasn't sure what to expect, it being my first post and all, and you've all been wonderful. 
> 
> I have a couple one-shots of them kicking around in my head that I will probably post at some point, since you have all given me a bit more confidence about them.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been an age since I worked at Starbucks, so maybe the coffee and music have improved? No real disrespect intended towards our coffee overlords.


End file.
